She glanced hurriedly at the communication-cord and then back at me, as if I were a lunatic.
"You are Miss Deane of Grandchester--daughter of Dr. Deane?" I asked.
"Then all I can say is," I cried, losing my temper at her stony heartlessness, "that your conduct in turning an honest, decent man into a besotted fool, and then disclaiming all knowledge of him, is outrageous. It's damnable. The language hasn't a word to express it!"
"I shall really have to call the guard," she said, regarding me coolly.
"You are quite free to do so," I answered. "But if you do, I shall have to show your letters, in sheer self-defence. I am not going to spend the day in a police-station."
I took a bundle of letters from my pocket and tossed one over to her. She glanced at it quickly, started, as if in great surprise, and handed it back with a smile.
I thought I had never seen her equal for unblushing impudence. Her mellow tones made the mockery appear all the more diabolical.
"If you didn't write it," said I, "I should like to know who did."
"My name is Valerie Deane and my cousin's name is Valerie Deane, and this is her handwriting."
Bewildered, I passed my hand over my eyes. What feline trick was she playing? Her treachery was incomprehensible.
"I suppose it was your Cousin Valerie who tended me during my blindness at your father's house, who shed tears because she had to leave me, who----"
"Quite possibly," she interrupted. "Only it would have been at her father's house and not mine. She does tend blind people, my father's patients."
I looked at her open-mouthed. "In the name of Heaven," I exclaimed, "who are you, if not the daughter of Dr. Deane of Stavaton Street?"
"My father is Mr. Henry Deane, the oculist. You asked if I were the daughter of Dr. Deane. So many people give him the wrong title I didn't trouble to correct you."
It took me a few moments to recover. I had been making a pretty fool of myself. I stammered out pleas for a thousand pardons. I confused myself, and her, in explanation. Then I remembered that the fathers were twin brothers and bore a strong resemblance one to the other. What more natural than that the daughters should also be alike?
"What I can't understand," said Miss Deane, "is how you mistook me for my cousin."